Wolfishly Yours Read Free Page B

discussing how to manage me, not you,” she said, one corner of her mouth turned up in disgust.
    “I’m curious to find out what you’ve done to deserve such a careful management stratagem,” he said with a low laugh. She looked harmless enough. Well, harmless in an “I’d sell my soul to the devil for a taste of her” sort of way. He shifted his stance, aiming for a much more careless air.
    “You name it, and she has done it,” the earl barked from across the room. Then he leaned closer to Gray’s mother and the pair resumed their whispering.
    “Pray tell?” Gray prompted the tempting American.
    She looked him straight in the eye, as though she considered answering his question. But then she slightly shook her head and muttered, “They plan to feed me bread and water until I succumb to their social restrictions. I’m certain of it.”
    He couldn’t help but smile at her. “Oh? And how long do you suppose one might last on bread and water alone?”
    “Hopefully, long enough to find a way back to New Orleans,” she groused.
    “I take it you’re not happy to find yourself in Derbyshire, then.”
    “Well, you’re quick witted, aren’t you?” Her dark blue eyes flashed at him. “I figured it would take you at least a fortnight to figure out how much I loathe the very idea of being here.”
    “On the contrary, I think I understood that when I first walked into the room.” Audacious little thing, wasn’t she?
    “Bully for you,” she murmured.
    Gray hid a smile behind a closed fist as he coughed into it.
    “Do you think you could help me escape England?” She looked up at him, pierced him with her pretty eyes, and batted her lashes.
    “Not ready to surrender to your fate, Miss Mayeux?” he asked.
    “I surrender to no one,” she retorted hotly. “I do not want to be here. And I will return home at the first opportunity.” She sniffed. She regarded his mother and her grandfather through narrowed eyes. “What are they saying?” she asked, looking up at him with a curious regard.
    “I’ve no idea,” he remarked.
    “Do I look like I was born yesterday, Mr. Hadley?” She tapped the toe of her slipper against the oak floor.
    Liviana Mayeux looked to be twenty or so, but in his estimation women rarely wanted an answer to a question involving age. So, he decided the wiser course of action was a noncommittal shrug.
    She pointed to the area beneath her left ear. “That little mark you have there, Mr. Hadley, I know full well what that is.”
    She did? Gray almost swallowed his tongue. Most people assumed his birthmark, the only physical evidence of his being a Lycan, was a love bite. But what did Miss Mayeux know of such a thing? “Beg your pardon?” he asked.
    She reached out as though to touch his neck, to touch the very thing that marked him as a beast, but he stepped back before she could do so. “Who’d have thought you boys from this side of the Atlantic could be so timid?” she mused. The little minx was thoroughly enjoying his discomfort.
    Gray raised his brows at her. “I don’t believe any Hadley man has ever been called timid before.”
    “Are there more of you?” she asked.
    “There are three of us,” he said with pride. Not to mention Dashiel, but he wasn’t a Hadley, at least not in name.
    “Three Lycan men,” she said, appearing to savor what must have been a look of shock he couldn’t keep off his face. “Certainly one of you might be willing to help me get back home.” She smiled broadly at him and patted his chest. He couldn’t have been more surprised if she’d bashed him over the head with an anvil. No one knew of his heritage aside from his own family. Gray began to speak but couldn’t croak out a single word.
    She clucked her tongue at him. “It’s your turn to close your mouth, Mr. Hadley,” she whispered playfully. Then she dropped her voice to a silky purr that made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. “Are you certain you don’t want to help